It was not my own: I received it from another.OedipusFrom whom of the citizens here? From what home?ServantFor the love of the gods, master, ask no more!OedipusYou are dead if I have to question you again.ServantIt was a child, then, of the house of Laius.OedipusA slave? Or one of his own clan?ServantAlas! I am on the brink of speaking the dreaded words.OedipusAnd I of hearing: I must hear nevertheless.ServantYou must know then, that it was said to be his own child. But your lady within could say best how these matters lie.OedipusHow? Did she give it to you?ServantYes, my lord.OedipusFor what purpose?ServantThat I should do away with it.OedipusHer own child, the wretched woman?ServantYes, from fear of the evil prophecies.OedipusWhat were they?ServantThe tale ran that he would slay his father.OedipusWhy, then, did you give him to this old man?ServantOut of pity, master, thinking that he would carry him to another land, from where he himself came. But he saved him for the direst woe.For if you are what this man says, be certain that you were born ill-fated.OedipusOh, oh! All brought to pass, all true. Light, may I now look on you for the last time—I who have been found to be accursed in birth,accursed in wedlock, accursed in the shedding of blood. He rushes into the palace.

ChorusAlas, generations of mortals, how mere a shadow I count your life! Where, where is the mortal whoattains a happiness which is more than apparent and doomed to fall away to nothing? Your fate warns me—yours, unhappy Oedipus—to call noearthly creature blessed.

ChorusFor he, O Zeus, shot his shaft with peerless skill, and won the prize of an all-prosperous fortune, having slain the maiden with crooked talons, who sang darkly.He arose for our land like a tower against death. And from that time, Oedipus, you have been called our king, and have been honored supremely, holding power in great Thebes.

ChorusBut now whose story is more grievous in men’s ears?Who is a more wretched slave to fierce plagues and troubles, with all his life reversed? Alas, renowned Oedipus! The same bounteous harbor was sufficient for you, both as child and as father, to make your nuptial couch in. Oh, how can the soilin which your father sowed, unhappy man, have endured you in silence for so long?